Chronicles of the Third Galactic Empire
by Shaman Tonberry
Summary: The chronicle of the events between the day the existence of Magius was revealed to the world and the 231 year of the Third Galactic Empire. Rated M for general undertones possible future content. My first story, hope you like it.
1. Prologue

Author's notes: I do not own Valvrave the Liberator (aka Kakumeiki Valvrave) or any parts of it. You can say I'm writing this because I need closure;]

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**Prologue**

_Third Galactic Empire Era, Year 0, 3 days after World Uncovering_

The man stood in the corner of the small, dimly lit room. He had waited there, motionless and expressionless, for the past five minutes. The window on the opposite side had the curtains shut, despite it being evening. It was a bit unusual, but then again, everything was for the past few days, to a certain extent also weeks or months. If anything bothered the man, he was showing no signs of it.

Between him and the window there was a space, 3 meters wide and 4 meters long. It was difficult to discern the colour of the walls, but it seemed like some sort of blue. A single shelf full of books and files, a few framed pictures hanging here and there, details impossible to make out in this lighting, and a desk. A huge, oak desk like the ones you've seen in old movies or politic addresses. This piece of furniture almost screamed "important person".

And yet, the person sitting behind it in a dark brown leather armchair, didn't seem to be comfortable with this setting and the message it sent. Perhaps due to this, the desk had a rather messy appearance. Piles of documents stacking on the remaining free space, unoccupied by writing utensils, the keyboard, mouse or the monitor. The person sitting at that desk gave the impression of a clerk, whom was bestowed with fancy furniture against her will.

But she wasn't a clerk. Despite the fact that she subconsciously try to temper it down, she was an important person. The woman was resting her head on her palms, her elbows supported by the chair's arms. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I'm sorry to have asked for you at such short notice and so late. Unfortunately, this is the only chance for me to see you in the foreseeable future with enough time to spare." She paused, collecting her thoughts and the words that have been running around her head for the past few days. Words she just needed to say aloud. "Please, tell me everything you know. Everything that happened. I want to know the truth". The brown-haired woman looked at the grey-haired man with her green, swollen eyes. He in turn made a step forward, moving into the light that showed his faint violet irises. He opened his mouth and started to talk. He continued all night, with her not interrupting him in a single instance. After he finished, she asked questions. Many of them. From time to time, she would tear up and let out a quiet sob. But only that. She knew despairing wouldn't help. She was an adult, despite having the body of a girl. He was a man, despite having the body of a boy. It wasn't their fault. Life simply made them that way.


	2. The Birth of a New World

Author's note: so, the Prologue has set the mood and now the current chapter introduces the setting a bit. I know Shoko doesn't sound like her usual self, but with so many painful things happening, a bitter and cynical part of her surfaced. She will eventually bounce back, but it won't happen overnight. Hope you enjoy accompanying her on that road;]

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**The Birth of a New World**

_Third Galactic Empire Era, Year 0, 7 days after World Uncovering_

Shoko leaned back in her leather armchair and rubbed her forehead. It was already after midnight, her room lit only by the strong, yellow light of her desk lamp, spreading its rays over piles of documents and the monitor of her computer. For the past week she barely got any sleep, constantly at work, yet there was still so much to do. And time could run out at any moment.

One week ago the existence of Magius and the 101 Council has been revealed to the world. The public was in uproar. The global demand for action was rapidly turning into a witch hunt as anxiety and distrust spread among the population of both ARUS and Dorssia. Part of her couldn't blame them – the revelation that an alien race of vampires has lived among them for most of the past few millennia and was pulling strings behind political and economic affairs was ground-shaking. Fake lists of Council members started circulating quickly, adding to the confusion. The ARUS President took a firm stand and undertook decisive action, apprehending many people whose names appeared on all those records. There was no real way of confirming whether they were human, except for... Shoko shuddered at the thought of what all those men and women were now undergoing in detention facilities at the hand of overzealous soldiers and government officials. Not so long ago she would cling to the belief that the assessment would be thorough and just. But being the prime minister of New JIOR has taught her quickly not to harbor such illusions. She smiled bitterly – she was no better, shunning away Haruto and denying him the right to explain himself. Now she could never do that. All there was left was his serene face and closed eyes, as they put the casket into the ground earlier that day. She remembered whispering "I'm sorry", as they lowered the wooden box into the hole in the ground, knowing perfectly well it was too late and he would never get to hear those words from her. She didn't even notice when a single tear dripped down her cheek. She was already focused on the tasks at hand.

Perhaps the grief made her a bit jaded and cynical, but she had no time to wonder whether that was a temporary condition. With the witch hunt in full bloom, the general attention was directed elsewhere – to the mass detentions and official arrest warrants, accompanied by news of successive people disappearing, presumably into hiding. The latter being in most cases what actually happened, since ARUS gained publicity for every successful apprehension. There was no need for covert operations. On the other side, there was the civil war in Dorssia, which was slowly drawing to an end. With the vast majority of the population supporting the Royalists in their struggle against the corrupt and discredited Dictatorship, which still had quite a few adherents desperately clinging to their positions, the difference in manpower and resources was overwhelming. The Royalists would win.

All of this wasn't exactly a bad situation. With ARUS struggling with internal affairs and the upcoming ruling power in Dorssia at least for now maintaining friendly neutrality, the world's eyes were off New JIOR. With troops on both sides withdrawing to tend to other tasks, they managed to reclaim Module 77. There was much rejoice, but it lasted very shortly. Having been the world's outcasts before, the students knew all too well they had to make use of what little peace they had to the best of their abilities. Disagreement between normal people and Valvrave pilots (now down to a staggering number of two) was temporarily set aside and all worked under the supervision of their prime minister. Shoko administered the peaceful reclaiming of the Module and reinstalling her country on its previous premises, but aside from that, she was in the dark. She had no knowledge, no full grasp of the situation. She put up a strong, yet gentle and optimistic face, but for the first few days she cried whenever nobody was looking. Except for that one time, when Akira brought her Haruto's helmet, sparing her the sight of his dead body, something broke down in her in an instance. She spent a good two hours crying her eyes out into the red headgear. She recollected herself after that, responsibility for her countrymen giving her the strength. Yet she would still cry herself to bed before those three hours of sleep she got every night. Until the funeral.

It was a depressing ceremony, to say the least. All attending had spent the past days gathering corpses of their schoolmates, sometimes mutilated by gunshot wounds beyond recognition. Those whose bodies could not be retrieved, were given memorial tablets and after a few days of meticulous preparation, including confirming the whereabouts of all students, the ceremony was held at 3 PM, exactly one week after World Uncovering. The length of the casualty list was downright appalling. In a bold move, Shoko decided to include Haruto's body in the burial, as well as memorial tablets for Yamada and Inuzuka. That was the least she could do for them, after all. Even those who still feared them, could not deny their contribution to everyone's effort and, in a way, their noble sacrifice. If their good name was to be restored in the future, it was a good start. However, there were more pressing matters. Still, as she led the ceremony, she felt that something had died inside her, leaving a glaring hole that would probably never find closure. Haruto was her first true love, taken away from her by cruel fate, fear, misunderstanding, and distrust. It was going to be her burden to live with.

As she leaned forward towards the keyboard and resumed typing, Shoko reminisced about the event that put her in her current position. Four days earlier she had finally found a chance to speak with L-Elf, now effectively her right hand. Shoko asked him to tell her everything. She expected the truth would be painful, but as a leader of such a fragile country, she needed all the edge she could get. That included information, first and foremost. She tried her hardest not to get emotional listening the story, as her hear tore apart inch by inch. Even L-Elf wasn't completely unmoved, the occasional wavering of his voice indicating how close these two characters, Liselotte and Haruto, had been to him. She bit her lip and cried once again after he left. Most people attributed her swollen, red eyes to exhaustion. In a sense, they were right. After the funeral she had simply become too tired to cry anymore.

Regardless of her emotional state, the conversation with L-Elf proved indispensable. She knew she had to work quick. As the emotions concerning the burial would soon settle down, old antagonisms would spark up again. As heartless as it sounded, she would have to establish and enforce policy starting the very next day. Her tired fingers typed subsequent letters of the document she was preparing. On her right was a neat print-out of the short speech she gave at the funeral. She didn't look at it, since she already remembered every word by heart. Not only that, but also everything the instance of a speech entailed – when to make pauses, raise your voice or eye the public. In a word, everything. The sheet of quality paper which had by now served its purpose, read:

"Everyone! We have gathered here to finally give a proper burial to our friends and classmates who have died in the events of the past few weeks. Every single of their deaths was a tremendous and irreplaceable loss to us all. Words cannot express the grief and sorrow every one of us feels right now (pause). Not long ago they were among us, preparing for the Cultural Festival and struggling to achieve at least a little bit of normality in those difficult times. Unfortunately, those same times proved unforgiving, taking their lives and plunging us into bloody and wanton chaos (pause). We should not, however, forget that we all gathered here are still alive. It is therefore our obligation to those no longer with us to continue our struggle and bring peace to the land they now rest in. Carry on and fulfil their wishes, making it our legacy that will save them for being forgotten (pause). We are here today to cherish their memory and carve it into our hearts, pay our respects and reminisce on the time we have spent together. Even those whom we have grown to distrust and abhor, since their sacrifice is not smaller in any regard (pause). These are the things I would like you to think about today, as we put their bodies into this ground. Nothing more, nothing less. It would be a shame to distract you from this activity, so I will leave you to your thoughts. I will address the present issues in a broadcast tomorrow at noon, but for the time being let us devote are attention to those that are no longer with us, but whom we cherished, liked or loved. This day, as every anniversary of this event, will be dedicated to them. Let us pray for their happiness on the other side".


End file.
